


The Girl Next Door

by queen_loser



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Angst, At Least When It Comes To The De Santas, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheating, Chubby Protag, Eventual Smut, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Feelings, Flirting, Forbidden Love, Guns, Infidelity, Los Santos, Mutual Pining, Neighbors, Not Canon Compliant, Older Man/Younger Woman, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Tension, Strong Language, Tracey Is More Than A Valley Girl, passionate love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27256759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_loser/pseuds/queen_loser
Summary: . . .Or rather, the new girl across the street.Nobody warned Ella about her new neighbors, the De Santa’s, when she and her family relocated to Los Santos due to her father’s new career opportunity. She was never warned about becoming Tracey De Santa’s new best friend and biggest confidante, and she certainly wasn’t warned about becoming the focus of one Michael De Santa. Perhaps unfortunately, she couldn’t help but return his taboo affections, throwing herself head first into a situation that puts her in more danger than either of them wanted her to be in.
Relationships: Franklin Clinton/Tracey De Santa, Michael De Santa/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	1. Cradles

The drive from Cottonmouth to Los Santos was long, and for once Ella was pleased to not be the one behind the wheel. She spent much of her time in the backseat, napping whenever possible; the restlessness of her parents, especially near the end of their journey, would always render her dreamless bouts of sleep short and unsweet, but she tried not to gripe. She was twenty-two years old, after all, and it had been her choice to accompany her parents on the move. Not that she had much of a choice, at least not in her own opinion. Cottonmouth was the gaping hole that God used to transfer the truly wicked to Hell, and she was sure that Hell was creeping closer and closer to the city. Crime was rampant. Even the few suburbs were becoming crooked, and her father had received a new job offer to design a secondary building for Lifeinvader in Los Santos anyways, so it was past time to leave the place.

The last few years of her life had been spent attempting to speed through university, and somehow she’d managed to win the race. She successfully scored her Bachelor’s in English, an accomplishment that was only somewhat well received.

“What kind of career can you have with an English degree?” Her mother scoffed after she’d changed her major from chemistry to the study of her mother tongue. Truth be told, Ella was quite unsure what the answer to this somewhat simple question was; what did she intend to do after school? Become a writer? No. She had no interest in fame. Journalist? No, she wasn’t interested in risking her life just to prove that Farmer Joe’s tomatoes were, in fact, sprayed with toxic pesticides. She decided she’d figure it out after graduation, because there was no way in hell she was going back to the torturous study of chemistry.

And yet here she was, a graduate for. . . had it been two months already? And she was still unemployed and unsure of what she wanted to do. She thought about attempting to write a book, maybe being a writer wouldn’t be so bad after all, but what would she write about? She had no muse, no motivation to even think up a topic, how in the hell could she attempt to write?

Despite her parents’ desperately wishing she’d gotten her degree in anything other than English, they were surprisingly supportive of her. Her father explained that he was jobless for six months after finishing college, and he’d had no motivation either. Considering he was an Architect, she figured that maybe his career path was somewhat similar to hers in that creativity was a strong, essential skill that was required. Her mother, on the other hand, was supportive, but unable to empathize. She’d finished Law School and vigorously looked for a job until she’d found one that satisfied her. Yes— she’d been an attorney before, but she had retired when Ella was fifteen. Living in Cottonmouth and being a defense attorney was dangerous business, and after being threatened with having to watch her husband and daughter skinned alive, she decided it was time to quit. Ella had briefly wondered if she’d reopen her practice in Los Santos, but had forgotten to ask.

At last, when the family arrived at their new home in Rockford Hills, on Steele Way, they were greeted by their overly excited realtor. He kissed her parents’ cheeks and her hand, and she suspected that he would have been bouncing off the walls if he could. See, it had taken a few years to sell this house, considering the house next to them had burned down four years ago and was somehow still in the beginning stages of rebuilding. Living in Cottonmouth all their lives had left them practically undisturbed by loud noises or disturbing imagery, so it wasn’t exactly an agonizing decision for them to decide they didn’t care about the construction.

Ella looked up at the large, white-bricked house and wondered momentarily what would become of her old house. Would vandals set their sights upon it, disturbing it until it was no longer livable? Would it be picked apart by starving looters, hoping to catch a fair price for the bricks? She supposed it didn’t matter in the end. Sure, it was sad to leave her childhood home behind, but she wasn’t the most nostalgic person out there; it was just a house, and all that mattered were the memories she had of it. _Whatever_.

“Mr. Nuñez, would it be terribly unprofessional of me to say how happy I am to finally be selling this house? Especially to a fine gentleman such as yourself!” David Cho, the realtor, chimed off in his polite, almost uptight voice.

“Of course not, I’m glad to take it off your hands. And please, call me Angelo.” Her dad, Angelo, answered back. 

“Debra.” Her mother, Debra, formally introduced herself. Despite his earlier kisses to their cheeks, he shook their hands anyways. Ella smothered a giggle away from her lips; he must have been so giddy to be rid of this place. 

As fun as it was watching the realtor offer his thanks to her parents for the sixteenth time that night, Ella was ready to head inside and start putting together her bed, or at least wrap her mattress in a sheet so she could sleep on it in good conscience. Fortunately, their furniture had been delivered a few days before they’d gotten there. Unfortunately, the moving company had made it clear that they hadn’t unpacked anything or really arranged the furniture. Frowning at the thought of having to hunt down her mattress and box of polka-dotted sheets, Ella followed her father as he walked to the front door, unlocking it at last and letting the family inside. 

She wasn’t sure if the architectural style was modern or pueblo, or was it contemporary? Whatever, she’d have to ask Angelo later on. Currently, she was too concerned with hunting down her belongings. She hardly paid attention to the off-white coloring of the walls, or the hard wood floors that somehow didn’t creak when they were walked on. Upon entering the house, a person would find themselves in the small foyer that held a door to the bathroom on the left side of the room, a door that led to the master bedroom on the right side of the room, and an obnoxious entrance straight ahead that led to the dining room. To the left of the dining room was the kitchen, and to the right was the living room, where the stairs to the second floor could be found. Ella climbed up them, yearning to go to her precious room, the room she’d picked specifically for herself, in the hopes of finding some of her things in it.

It was at the end of the hall, and much like the rest of the house, the walls were that same off-white coloring. The floor, however, was smothered with plush carpet like the other bedrooms. Her room was perhaps the smallest of them all, but that was all she needed. She didn’t like too much open space, since it made her feel like she didn’t have everything she absolutely needed. Her mom used to joke that she was agoraphobic, something she never found quite funny. Besides, it was the only room with access to the balcony outside, yet another factor in why she picked it. 

Upon entering the room, she was excited to find a couple of boxes stacked in the center, waiting to be opened and unloaded. She nearly cut through the tape on the boxes with her own fingernails before she realized they were all labelled “kitchen”; why would they put these boxes in a bedroom? With a sigh, she turned to the glass door that led to her precious balcony, and decided that some air could be useful. Brushing some curls behind her ears, she stepped through the door and breathed happily.

It was getting dark outside, and even though it was only about 7 o’clock, Ella was exhausted. She couldn’t help but stretch her arms and legs now that she was in her own space, only to stop when she realized the neighbors across the street were standing outside. She realized how stupid it was to to be embarrassed by stretching, but that didn’t stop her cheeks from heating up as she reddened slightly. Upon further inspection, she realized the neighbors weren’t even paying attention to her, which was expected now that she thought about it. Why would they busy themselves with peering over at her new house? Did they even know that it had been recently sold, and that the Nuñez family had just begun making themselves at home?

The neighbors seemed to be… arguing. There were two of them; a woman with brunette hair that was almost as dark as her own, and a man with black hair and a matching black suit. For whatever reason, they were arguing. She decided they were husband and wife, judging by the fact that they both appeared to be a little older than herself, though not quite as old as her own parents. Middle aged was perhaps the right label to slap onto them, but she wasn’t willing to commit to it quite yet without a closer look. Now that she was paying attention, she could hear their raised voices, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. As far as she could see, the man was on the verge of entering his car, but stopped every three seconds so he could snap back at the woman, who was yelling at him from the front door of their gorgeous mansion.

If Ella was an incredibly optimistic person, maybe she could spin their raised voices into some twisted version of them being unable to stop proclaiming their love for each other. But alas, she wasn’t, and honestly even an optimistic person wouldn’t have been able to deny the pure venom in their voices. 

She thought she could hear the word “stripper” quite often, but maybe that was just her ears playing tricks on her. Despite how wrong it was to spy on her neighbors, she was too interested in the way they seemed to fight to turn away. The man kept opening and closing his car door, and at one point he managed to stick one leg into the car before withdrawing it. Ella couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just leave; was he so stubborn that he couldn’t back down from a fight with his furious wife, who threw him the finger as much as he slammed that damned door? _Men_. 

It was another couple of minutes of them arguing before he finally got into the car, with the woman throwing what appeared to be a tennis racket at the retreating vehicle. She walked back inside before she could catch Ella spying on them, slamming the door so hard that the whole ground seemed to shake. The same couldn’t be said for the man, who was angrily peering along the street when he happened to look up, catching the girl in her tracks. 

White-faced and frozen, the recent graduate could only purse her lips in what she hoped was an apologetic manner as the older man peered up at her. His expression changed into a thousand different directions as he stared up at her, and she found that she could not look away from him out of pure shame. When his confused face finally landed on irritated, the same look he’d had in the first place, he looked away from her and sped out of the driveway, almost hitting a bright red Issi as he sped down the street. Ella even thought she watched him run a stop sign, but maybe since she couldn’t exactly see the sign itself due to a blocking tree branch, she was wrong. Hopefully, at least.

She rolled her eyes, wondering if this was a common occurrence in the household across from hers. She didn’t want to have to listen to their poison-laced voices screaming at each other every time she stepped onto her balcony, although she had to admit their mannerisms were pretty funny. She even started to giggle to herself, thinking about how worn out that car door must be. It was then that her phone, which she’d forgotten she had in the first place, started vibrating in her back pocket. She answered it without even looking at it, as she had a feeling she knew who it was anyways.

“Hello?” She answered informally. On the other end, she could hear loud pop music and male laughter, followed by a brash cough right in her ear.

“Hey, Ella? Ummm, I know we said we were gonna be there tonight— _stop it, Cam!_ —but we’re gonna stay the night in Las Venturas tonight, mmmkay? I’ll see you guys— _Cam!—_ tomorrow, kay?” Came the voice of Ella’s younger sister, Lily, through the receiver. Immediately, Ella was on the defensive; Lily and her “rockstar” (loser) boyfriend had been tasked with driving Ella’s precious Panto from Cottonmouth to Los Santos. It had been Lily’s idea, of course, in a bid to prove how responsible she was. Freshly eighteen and having already landed herself in jail three times (as an adult, this didn’t include her crimes as a minor), that girl and her beloved boyfriend were nothing but trouble, and yet Ella caved to her every demand. She loved her sister arguably more than her parents, no matter how much the little menace got on her nerves. 

“Okay, I hear you, but this wasn’t a part of the plan, _Lilith!_ ” Was Ella’s panicked response. Who knows what those two were doing, yet alone in her car!

“I know but it’s getting late and Cam has night blindness.” Lily explained, followed by a cough and a giggle.

“Are you… are you smoking? **In my car**?” The thought of her car smelling like cigarette smoke, or even weed, panicked Ella even more. It’s not that she particularly cared whether or not her sister and her boyfriend smoked, that was their business— it was the thought of having to smell it when she finally got to drive her own car again.

“Gotta go!” And then there was a beep and silence. _Goddamnit_. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

After tracking down her mattress and covering it with her sheets, Ella subjected herself to a restless sleep. She was worried about her sister and her car, and since she was already down in the dumps about that, she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about her spying on the neighbors yesterday. The man had _spotted_ her… how could she ever face him again? It wasn’t that she particularly cared what others thought of her, but that only counted if she’d actually met them first. Now all she’d be in that man’s eyes was a nosy neighbor with nothing to do. Hell, he probably told his family about it when he got home, assuming he and his wife hadn’t killed each other.

When she finally woke up at a reasonable hour, she was pleased to find that the coffee machine was the first thing her parents had assembled in the kitchen and living room; they were all avid caffeine addicts. She suspected even Lily was sipping a more-sugar-than-coffee frappuccino wherever she was, hopefully on the way to Los Santos. 

Ella spent most of her day moving furniture around in her bedroom until she was satisfied with how it looked, and then finally unpacking her clothes and knicknacks. When around 4 o’clock she heard the doorbell ringing, she sighed in relief; that must have been Lily and Cam with her car. She was disappointed when she climbed down the stairs and spotted a family of four standing awkwardly in the foyer. 

Judging by their expensive-looking clothing, they were wealthy, and they probably lived in one of the giant houses surrounding her own giant house. The two “kids” looked to be around her age; one of them was a mid height blonde with black eyebrows and two eyes planted on her phone, while the other was a shorter guy with dusty hair covered by a black and red baseball cap. When Ella shifted her eyes to the parents, she immediately froze in her tracks. _Oh god,_ she thought, _these are the two from last night_.

Up close, they looked a little older than they did from a distance. She decided that middle aged was indeed the right label to slap on them, though she could tell that the woman had tried desperately hard with both makeup and plastic surgery to retain her youth. She was pretty, Ella had to admit, but the smile on her face didn’t match the scrunching of her nose. It seemed her welcoming was no more than for appearances. The man was a different story.

Like his kids, he didn’t show any particular interest in being here, though he wasn’t impolite when Angelo and Debra spoke to him. He was looking around the unfurnished foyer with an unreadable expression, at least until his eyes landed on Ella. She couldn’t help but blush, not only from the embarrassment of last night, but also from the embarrassment of being makeupless and dressed in a ripped white t-shirt and bleach-stained jean shorts. Today had been all about moving and setting up, after all. If she’d known anyone was going to show up, maybe she would have bothered to dress up a bit more. She’d at least throw on a bra, which she was now wishing she’d done before departing from her bedroom.

“And who is this?” The woman asked, also spotting her. The kids behind the woman lifted their eyes to look at Ella and for some reason they looked somewhat interested. The older man didn’t take his eyes off of her, though a small smile slipped on his lips as she snapped out of it. She didn’t want to be rude and further antagonize her new neighbors.

“I’m Gabriella, but you can just call me Ella, everybody else does.” She introduced herself, forcing herself to approach them so she could shake their hands. The slapping of her bare feet against the hardwood floor was loud, too loud for her own comfort as she met their distance, reaching her hand out for the first person to take. That was the older woman, who introduced herself as Amanda and gave her a short, light handshake. The next was Jimmy, the younger guy, who opted to fistbump her instead of shaking her hand. The younger girl, Tracey, simply waved, but pushed Jimmy out of her way so she could stand closer to the girl. The next was Michael, the patriarch, whose hand practically enveloped hers as he shook it.

His hands were calloused unlike the rest of his family’s, and for some reason touching him gave Ella the chills. It didn’t help that his gaze was more interested in her than the other’s, which made her old high school self-consciousness seep back into her already anxiety-riddled mind. She didn’t like people looking at her for too long, especially attractive members of the opposite sex such as himself. Which… well, that thought startled her, as she hadn’t even forced herself to observe his features long enough to count him as attractive. If one look was enough for her mind to deem him good-looking, that was interesting. 

“Hi.” She forced herself to greet them, stretching her lips into the cheeriest smile she could muster. She was still so embarrassed that it was difficult for her to look any of them, yet alone Michael in the eye. Was she even allowed to call him Michael? He had to be twice her age, so surely Mr. De Santa was a bit more respectful? It was funny that she didn’t have the same internal battle about Amanda… the problem with her was that she looked more like an Amanda than a “Mrs. De Santa”.

Amanda announced that the family had come over to welcome them to the neighborhood, as well as to deliver some cookies they’d made. Well, the direct quote was “-what our cook Olga made”, but whatever. 

Angelo and Debbie led their fellow parents into the kitchen for a quick drink, since they’d just unpacked their stash of aged bourbon and wine right as the family arrived, while Ella was left in the foyer with Tracey and Jimmy. She didn’t appreciate how Jimmy seemed to ogle her, while Tracey’s thumbs were moving a million miles an hour on her cellphone. 

“Aaaand, send!” She announced when she was finished, locking the phone and stuffing it in her back pocket before she smiled warmly at Ella. This took the brunette by surprise, as she’d half expected her new neighbor to stay on her phone for the rest of the time she was there. 

“Um, would you guys like a tour or something? It’s not really, er, finished. I mean, we’re not finished decorating and my mom said she wants to rearrange the living room again, but you know.” Ella offered awkwardly, not knowing what else to say to them.

“Duh! Cute hairstyle, by the way. I wish I could get my hair to curl like that.” Tracey grinned, animatedly placing her hands on her hips. 

“Oh, thanks. My hair’s naturally curly, actually, so I kinda wish it could be as straight as yours.” Ella decided to return the compliment. It was true; her shoulder-length dark brown hair always hung in little circles around her diamond-shaped face. Even her curtain bangs were in a permanent ringlet state, which bothered her a bit as it wasn’t what she envisioned when she’d got them, but _whatever_. 

Not wanting to resort herself or the restless Jimmy to anymore conversations about hair, Ella finally took the two on a tour of the house. She started with the master bedroom, which was fully furnished but undecorated, following by showing them where the downstairs bathroom was. She showed them the living room and then the kitchen, where the trio snuck shots of bourbon. The drink seemed to hit Jimmy a bit more than the girls, but he only suffered from a tiny buzz. She then took them upstairs, showing them the room that was supposed to be Lily’s, the guest bedroom, and finally her own bedroom. Like the master bedroom, it wasn’t fully decorated, but furnished. 

“Your sheets are cute.” Tracey complimented before sitting down on the bed. “And soft.” She added.

“Thanks-” Ella started, only to be interrupted by Jimmy, who exclaimed at the sight of her PSBoX next to her small TV.

“You play video games? What do you play? Do you play Righteous Slaughter? We should fo-shizzle play together, dig?” He happily spoke, causing both her and Tracey to blink at him. Ella didn’t want to crush his dreams and let him know that the only reason she had the console was to watch movies and play trivia games with Lily and Cam, so she simply faked an uncomfortable looking smile and nodded. That was when Tracey expectantly reached her hand out to Ella, who blinked in response. What did she want?

“Gimme your phone.” She demanded, wiggling her fingers impatiently. Ella didn’t argue; she didn’t have anything to hide, so she just handed her the phone and let her do whatever it was that she needed to do. Maybe that was a stupid idea.

“We should totes be friends, I’m putting my number in your phone. Also, you need a new one, an IFruit this time. Badger phones are so five years ago. No offense. Do you mind if I get on your Lifeinvader and add myself?” Was Tracey’s lengthy jumble of words that made almost no sense to Ella. She was surprised that Tracey was interested in being her friend, considering she didn’t say much other than a small compliment about the house here and there. The fact that Tracey seemed very… uptight didn’t help either, but Ella supposed she’d learn more about her in due time. 

Ella didn’t give Tracey permission to add herself, but she did so anyways. That was fine, considering Ella hardly ever got on it anyways. She wasn’t exactly a big social media fan, or technology fan for that matter. She preferred to read a book than sit on her phone all day, but don’t twist that; she enjoyed a good party as well. She suspected that Tracey knew where all the good fiestas could be found, so that was another plus in not refusing this abrupt friendship.

Tracey had shoved her fancy, expensive looking phone into Ella’s hands, demanding that the brunette put her own number in when Michael poked his head through the door, evidently looking for his children.

“We’re going.” He informed them. Tracey held her hand out expectantly once again, only this time Ella was well aware that she wanted her phone back. She finished putting her number in and handed it to her, resulting in Tracey hugging her goodbye before speeding off. Jimmy also hugged her goodbye, only this hug was longer and vastly more uncomfortable. When he finally let go of her, he walked off as well, and Ella expected Michael to follow after him. He didn’t.

“Nice room.” He nodded his head, and suddenly she was blushing again. “You should see Tracey’s room, it looks like a fucking unicorn vomitted all over the place.” He added.

Ella couldn’t help but chuckle, sitting on her bed as she did. “Yeah, I’m more of a plain-white kinda girl myself.” 

“I see that.”

She sat there awkwardly, clasping her hands between her thighs so she wouldn’t flail them around like she usually did. She couldn’t help but watch how his eyes wandered around the room, seemingly examining her very existence before landing on her balcony door. When she realized that’s where he was looking, the red seeped back into her cheeks.

“About yesterday…” He started, obviously not wanting to address the situation. She didn’t either, but here they were. Her first instinct was to lie and hope he couldn’t tell. Maybe she could say she had just walked out when he caught her peeking, or maybe she had some earphones in, but she never got the chance to say anything. 

“I didn’t mean to uh, I guess disturb you. We just got into a little, uh, spat. Didn’t realize it was loud enough for you to hear.”

She nodded understandingly, deciding not to mention that she hadn’t actually heard them yelling until she took it upon herself to pay attention to them. “It’s okay, we all disagree sometimes, right?” She smiled.

“Yeah, _sometimes_.” He grumbled.

His eyes met hers finally, and suddenly the red in her cheeks went away. How she didn’t feel embarrassed anymore, she had no idea; all she could really tell was how pretty his eyes were. Having hazel, almost green eyes herself, she’d always admired blue eyes. They made her feel like she was falling into an ocean, enveloped by lukewarm waves and surrounded by the prettiest creatures the earth could throw at her. Maybe she was just bored of her own eyes. Whatever the case, she couldn’t help but also admire his blue eyes, which seemed different than any other she’d seen. They were… tired, and yet full of life. Bored, and yet full of adventures. She got the feeling that this man was no ordinary man, not only through his eyes, but his entire profile.

She’d peg him for a wiseguy, or something close to it. Judging by his husky voice, he was probably good at getting people to do what he wanted them to, whether it was with honeyed words or honeyed hits. In fact, when she chanced a quick glance at his hands, she could tell they were bruised. He’d gotten into a fight recently. It made her heart pound as she realized he wasn’t some domesticated cat that lived across the street, but a feral one. 

She’d always had a thing for guys who were trouble, though she’d never actively pursued them. This wasn’t a different case; he was married and two times older than her, though the former reason wasn’t that big of a deal breaker for her. Just because she didn’t care how old he was, that didn’t mean her family wouldn’t, however. And honestly, she was in shock that she was thinking these things about a man she’d barely met twenty minutes ago. A man whose kids were her age, and whose kids had just been hanging out in her room with her. Was she _that_ desperate for a boyfriend? Evidently. She’d had a recurring boyfriend in high school, as well as a different stable boyfriend in college, but those relationships were bound to never go anywhere from the start. She’d been unsatisfied with them emotionally as well as sexually. They were too… naive, a trait she found that she wasn’t attracted to.

She was one hundred percent positive that this man was the opposite of naive, and could absolutely snap her in half if he wanted to. Now not only was her heart pounding, but her stomach felt hot. _God, he needed to stop looking at her_.

“Well, I’d better get going.” He observed. She nodded in agreeance, standing up to see him out. He finally took his eyes off of her and she finally breathed again, only so she could walk him out.

Once the De Santas were all out of her house, she went back to her room and shut the door, wondering what the hell was wrong with herself. She’d never been attracted to a person so fast, and she’d never had such impure thoughts about a stranger. Besides, even if he wasn’t married and twice her age, she suspected he wouldn’t be interested in her anyways. She didn’t consider herself ugly, but she couldn’t consider herself as gorgeous as, say, Amanda. 

Amanda was nearly as tall as Michael and physically fit, with what appeared to be a small stomach and larger-than-average breasts. Ella herself was only mid height, standing at 5’5, and what many people would consider “chubby”. Her breasts were a little below average, but she figured her round and perky butt made up for it. She didn’t consider herself unattractive, just not as attractive as that man’s wife. _Wife, goddamnit_. That word made her head hurt. 

In many ways, she was quite different from Amanda, _the wife_. Not including the height, weight, bust, and behind differences, their other features were quite different, at least in Ella’s opinion. For one, Ella’s skin shade was that of a warm olive color, completed with the occasional dusting of freckles across her shoulders, nose, and cheeks. Her cheeks were fuller than Amanda’s, and her nose was button shaped, while her lips were thick cupids bows. The only thing they seemed to have in common was their hair color, though Ella’s was a bit darker than Amanda’s. Ella also got the sense that their personalities were completely different, but she wasn’t sure, not yet. Not that she really knew if she wanted to find out anyways.

It didn’t really matter what their differences were, since that was Michael’s wife and Ella wasn’t going to meddle in their marriage, no matter how attractive she found him to be. Still, she couldn't stop herself from walking onto her balcony, wanting to catch the family walking back to their house. Sure enough she caught them, with Amanda leading the way and the kids not far behind her. Michael, on the other hand, hung back a bit. Ella was just beginning to observe how nicely his beige suit fit him when he peered behind his shoulder, catching her eye. She gasped, once again looking like a crazy neighbor who was spying on all those who lived around her, but she was caught off guard when he actually waved at her. Biting her lip, she waved back at him. When he turned around to keep walking back to his house, she fell back against the wall. She knew it was an impossibility, but she couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like if he was a little more than just her neighbor.


	2. Why Are You Here?

It wasn’t until the next day that Lily and Cam finally decided to show up, recklessly driving Ella’s beloved Panto into the driveway and parking it dangerously close to the front door. She immediately threw herself into inspecting the miniature vehicle, ensuring that it lacked scratches or dents. When she checked the inside of the car, she was displeased to find empty candy and junk food wrappers lying on the upper floor pan. To make matters worse, the interior of the car had been obviously sprayed with Lily’s cheap, lavender scented perfume, masking the drifting scent of marijuana. Ella was going to kill them.

Well, that was a hyperbole; what she did instead was chew them both out and demand they clean their junk out of her prized vehicle, or else she’d make them pay. Not wanting to argue with her, the eighteen year old girl and twenty year old boy did as she asked. She was sure their low voices and eagerness for her to shut up were both results of a hangover, but the thought of them drunk driving her car nearly gave her a stroke so she stopped thinking about it. 

By the time she’d finished decorating her own bedroom, the younger couple were passed out in what Ella assumed was now their shared bedroom. Cam had never exactly asked to move in with them, he just came over one day and didn’t go home. When they announced they were moving to Los Santos, he conveniently added that he was already planning on relocating there, so might as well follow them. Debra and Angelo didn’t seem to care so long as he didn’t smoke in their house, and if he and Lily were going to do anything, it would preferably be when they weren’t around. At least Cam and Lily had the decency to follow that unwritten rule. 

Several times did Ella and Lily argue about Cam’s constant presence around the house. He was messy and annoying and he always played his drums too late at night. She was hoping that, since her bedroom was no longer above the garage, she wouldn’t hear him anymore, but she did. Why he had to practice at three in the morning, she had no clue. Why her parents either didn’t hear the playing or just downright ignored it, she also didn’t know. Sometimes, she felt like the only responsible person in her entire family.

Of course, Lily accused her of just being jealous and bitter about being “alone”, which simply wasn’t the case. Ella, unlike most human beings, didn’t exactly crave companionship; she was fine with being alone. Sure, sex was nice, but if she really wanted it she could just go find some willing guy in a bar. However, the more she thought about how uneager she was for a new man in her life, the more she realized her prior theory to why she was so attracted to Michael De Santa was wrong. If she wasn’t so eager to get a boyfriend, then why was she attracted to this man she hardly knew? Maybe she had some sort of chemical imbalance. 

Whatever the case, she busied herself with helping Lily and Cam set their room up for the next few days just so she could get him out of her head. She’d stopped herself from peering down at his house from her balcony by simply refusing to go onto it. She was also lucky that a large cement wall, covered with green moss and flowers, prevented her from seeing the De Santa residence whenever she plainly stepped outside, so it was a little easier to forget about her little crush. Once Cam and Lily’s room was set up, and in fact the rest of the house was ready to go, Ella quickly realized that she had nothing left to do. She had no job, she’d finished school, and she had no friends in Los Santos. Or so she thought.

It was a Friday afternoon when she received a text from Tracey De Santa, asking her if she wanted to come over and maybe swim for a little while. Ella would have preferred for Tracey to come to her own house and swim for a little while, but she didn’t want to offend her. Besides, it would be nice to see if the inside of the De Santa house was as pretty as the outside.

So, she shot back a text telling her she’d be there in twenty minutes before digging her old black bathing suit out of her dresser. It was a bit wrinkled since she hadn’t worn it in a little while; it was hot in Cottonmouth and there were plenty of beaches, but the gangs that frequented said beaches always prevented her from going. She had no interest in being mugged, killed, or worse.

Slipping the subtle black one piece on was easy, as was pulling the white sundress littered with white flowers over her head. It was convincing herself to go that was the hard part. Angelo was off at work and Debra was meeting an old friend for a drink, so they couldn’t save her from going. She supposed she’d have to hope and pray that Lily or Cam needed a ride somewhere, or needed her to mediate an argument between them, or  _ something _ .

She walked hopefully to their bedroom and softly knocked on the door, shifting impatiently in the white hallway. It was a minute before Cam peeled the door open, a lit cigarette in his hand as he raised his eyebrow at her.

“Wassup?” He asked, sniffing before taking a drag from the Redwood cigarette. She frowned at him, especially when he unintentionally blew the smoke her way.

“Where’s Lily?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Babe!” He called, peeking over his shoulder as he pushed the door all the way open. Lily was on her laptop, although Ella couldn’t see what she was doing.

“What?” She snapped, glaring up and away from her screen.

“You two need anything?” Ella asked impatiently. She had to silently remind herself to be nice, otherwise they wouldn’t want anything from her.

Both Lily and Cam pursed their lips and shrugged, although a look of realization soon fell on Cam’s greasy face. He took another puff of the cigarette before throwing it in the trashcan next to the door and smiling lazily at his girlfriend’s sister.

“If you’re going to the store, we need more cigarettes. And some milk, cuz I drank all the milk this morning.” He answered.

“You drank a whole gallon of milk this morning?” Ella questioned, disgusted.

He shrugged, sniffing one more time before reaching in his pocket and pulling out some money. “This should cover it.” He said, handing her the slightly damp cash. It was only six dollars worth of ones, so she knew damn well that it wouldn’t cover anything, but she took it anyway. They owed her for making her life so difficult. 

“You sure one of you doesn’t want to come with me? Lily?” She tried to hint to them, attempting and failing to catch her younger sister’s eye. Her car only sat two people, and while she much preferred for Lily to come with her, she was willing to put up with Cam if it meant she wasn’t going to have to face Michael De Santa one more time.

“Nah, we’re good.” Cam shook her off, turning and letting himself fall on top of the bed.  _ Fuck. _

She didn’t bother telling them bye before huffing and stomping off, wondering if she could get out of going to Tracey’s by saying she had to go to the store. Sure, she only had to get two things, and sure it would really only take about five minutes to get there, five minutes to get the smokes and milk, and then five minutes to get back… but it  _ could _ work. 

Unfortunately, she never got the chance to test her theory, as there was a knock at the door that prevented her from texting Tracey. She answered the door, expecting it to be another neighbor or potentially one of Cam’s friends, or maybe one of her parents’ forgot their key, but no. It was Tracey herself, grinning as she stood there in her pink swim top and shorts. 

“Tracey?” Was Ella’s greeting, surprised to see her there. She’d told Tracey she was going to walk there, so what was she doing here?

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you knew which house was ours. We live across the street, behind your house!” She cheerfully informed the brunette, who was already well aware of where they lived. She had to remind herself that Tracey hadn’t been the one to catch her peeping on them, however.

Ella offered her thanks, though it wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as it could have been. She was internally cursing herself for agreeing to going to the De Santas. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Tracey, she didn’t even know her long enough to make that kind of decision, it was that she didn’t want to see Michael again. There was something about fawning over a married man that made her feel guilty, even after she made it clear to herself that she certainly wasn’t planning on meddling in his marriage. The more she thought about it though, the more she realized something; if she hadn’t known Tracey long enough to know whether or not she liked her, maybe she should hold the same ideals with Michael?

He was an older man, after all. Maybe they had absolutely nothing in common and while his appearance was nice, his personality was shit. Maybe the answer to all her problems was just getting to know the family? Surely they wouldn’t exactly be the kind of company that Ella would want to keep, judging by Tracey’s valley-girl attitude, Jimmy’s keenness for making her uncomfortable, and the way that the matriarch and the patriarch fought outside and in front of everyone. 

Besides, even if she came to like the family, surely her friendship with Tracey would prevent her from thinking anymore forbidden thoughts about Michael. There was no way she could, in good conscious, lust after the father of one of her friends, especially if he was married.  _ Married _ . If she kept thinking the word, she’d stop finding him so desirable. 

So she followed the blonde girl to her house, quietly answering any questions that Tracey may have had. When she asked why Ella was still clutching six dollars in her hands, she didn’t have an answer for her. She simply blushed and shrugged her bony shoulders, having no pockets or a purse to slip the cash into. She didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell her new friend that she was planning on taking a trip to the store in order to avoid going to the De Santas, so she said nothing instead.

When they arrived at the house and Ella was invited in, she wasn’t surprised to find that the inside of the house was as nice as the outside. Surrounded by overpriced furniture and what had to be priceless paintings, she couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit insecure. Sure, her parents had money, but they weren’t exactly the biggest fans of buying expensive furniture. Both of them had grown up broke, so they believed that saving money and only spending it when the need arose was the way to living a successful life. Yeah, Ella agreed, but she feared Tracey or any of their other rich neighbors asking why she didn’t have this year’s Versace couch or  _ whatever _ .

Much to Ella’s chagrin, Michael and Amanda were seated in the dining room, ignoring one another as the man smoked a fat cigar and the woman flipped through a fashion magazine. 

“Ella and I are going to be swimming, so… can y’all like, not be weirdos and bother us?” Tracey made the girls’ appearances obvious. Her parents looked up, each of them frowning until they laid eyes on the Hispanic brunette who was obviously not their child. Their faces softened then, and Amanda stood from her place at the table and scrunched her nose as her lips stretched into a hair-raising grin.

Ella could have rolled her eyes at the fakeness of this woman, and she had half a mind to pull away when the older woman gave her a brief, one armed hug. All she could do was smile fakely back as she was greeted, no matter how much it pained her to do so. 

“Nice to see you again, Ella. Do you need anything to drink, or some sunblock? No, I bet you just tan in the sun, huh?” Amanda babbled, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge without hearing what Ella’s answer was.

Ella was on the verge of thinking yet another bad thought about the woman before she had to stop herself; maybe she was being so harsh with her out of jealousy? Just because she had some petty attraction to this woman’s husband, didn’t mean she had to dislike her. Besides, the crush would probably go away soon anyways. Taking a breath, the brunette smoothed her smile out until it was as genuine as she could get it, and then she politely took the water bottle from Amanda when it was offered to her. 

“Thank you. Um, your house is really beautiful… I was admiring it the other night, actually. The outside, anyways.” She complimented the older blue-eyed woman, and to her surprise, Michael snickered from the table. She looked at him, wondering what he thought was funny.

“It’s true, Mand. I caught her looking.” He agreed, a shit-eating grin on his face that annoyed Ella. She knew what he was talking about, and she knew that he knew she hadn’t been “admiring the house” that night.

Amanda seemed to think was suspect as well, as she squinted at Michael through her painted eyelashes. “Thank you, Ella.” She said anyways.

Despite Michael’s little comment, Ella couldn’t help but admire the way his t-shirt hugged his torso. Sure, he wasn’t the most fit man she’d ever seen, but she preferred realism more than cosmetics anyways. She also appreciated a man with facial hair, and couldn’t help but allow her eyes to rest on his stubbled chin. He had a 5 o’clock shadow going on today, whereas the last time she’d seen him he’d been clean shaven. She had to admit that she preferred the stubble.

She was forced to move her eyes away from him when Tracey grabbed her arm and pulled her outside, reminding her parents not to bother them, as well as to keep Jimmy away from them. Apparently he was up in his room, playing video games and dead to the world, but he’d probably come and peep on them if he knew they were outside. 

Despite being invited over to swim, the girls didn’t do much of it. They floated around the pool on yellow and pink floaties for a few minutes, listening to the pop music that Tracey played on her IFruit, before moving to lounge on the reclining lawn chairs. They didn’t talk too much until Ella decided to ask if Tracey worked or not.

“Not really, but like, kinda. I don’t know how it’s working out though. My friend Amber told me that she makes a lot doing it but like… I don’t know, my parents would be so mad if they found out, I think they’d lock me in my room or something. I mean, I could just sneak out of the window if they did that, but oh well. Unless they put bars on my window like I’m Harry Potter or something, but I could just cry and ask my dad not to and maybe he wouldn’t. I don’t know.”

Ella didn’t know exactly what kind of job Tracey was talking about, but she decided not to ask. Whatever it was, it was probably something she herself wouldn’t do. So, she responded to the girl’s rambling with a simple “I see” before taking a sip out of her water bottle.

“Do you work?” Tracey asked as she pushed her sunglasses on top of her head.

“Um, no, not right now.” Ella answered simply.

“How come? Didn’t you like, go to college?”

“Yeah… I don’t know, I just haven’t really figured out what I want to do yet. I’m probably gonna get some lame off the wall job until I figure it out, but uh, yeah.”

“Oh.”

Tracey then proceeded to look Ella up and down, making her feel uncomfortable. Had she missed a spot while shaving her legs?

“You know, you have a little junk in the truck and in the hood, but like, it matches your charm, you know? You could like, strip or something. Curves are really in this year, you know?”

Ella did not know. “Um, thank you…?” She blinked, wondering how such a backhanded compliment could sound so clumsy. As she began to realize that maybe this whole friend thing wasn’t going to work out, Tracey let out a loud gasp that made her jump.

“What?” Ella questioned, alarmed and looking around. She figured there was a spider or some sort of monstrosity of a bug around. 

Tracey was reaching for a magazine on the table next to her seat, further convincing Ella that there was a bug around until she spoke again. “Don’t look!  _ Don’t look _ ! Just like, totally play it cool and it will be, um, cool.” She squeaked, pretending to read the magazine while simultaneously peaking over it.

Confused for what felt like the eightieth time this day, Ella followed Tracey’s line of eyesight, curious to know what exactly it was she was looking at. Her eyes landed on the house, specifically the glass door that led inside the house. Inside, she could see Michael standing up and talking to somebody who she couldn’t see, but she noticed that Michael had changed into a navy blue suit with a lilac shirt underneath. Surely Tracey wasn’t getting so excited over him?

That was when the person he was talking to finally moved into her own eyesight, and she finally understood. He was a buff young man with dark brown skin and a faded haircut that suited him quite nicely. From her point of view, he was nice looking, but very out of place. Who was he?

“Is that your boyfriend or something?” She decided to inquire. 

Tracey scoffed. “ _Please_ , daddy would kill me, and then him, like literally."

“Why? Who is he?”

“His name is Franklin. He’s like my dad’s prodigy, or  _ protege _ , whatever, and dad told me he was strictly off limits. But he’s so, soooo-”

Tracey cut herself off when she suddenly grimaced. Another peek into the house told Ella why; Jimmy had come downstairs and was clapping Franklin on the back. Franklin, for his part, looked like he would rather be anywhere else than there.

Of course Jimmy had to look over and spot the two girls sitting outside, pretending to mind their own business when they were in fact ogling the same person he was previously bothering. Now he was walking outside to bother them, shouting behind his shoulder as he did. 

“-yeah, Jizzle and the F-Dawg!” He laughed as he walked out the door, and already Tracey was glaring daggers at him, her arms crossed firmly over her bosom. If Ella could shrink into her chair, she would, as she could just feel an argument about to break out in front of her.

“Yeah, I bet you love Jizzle, don’t you!” She shouted, and suddenly the glare he shot back at her was identical to hers.

“Not as much as you do, bitch!” Jimmy retorted. Franklin and Michael glanced out the window, apparently hearing the commotion. Tracey had already leapt out of her seat and was furiously wrapping her towel around herself when Jimmy approached her, his hands covering his eyes from the sun. Ella got the impression that he didn’t go outside very often, and she was starting to wish that she was inside with Michael and Franklin.

“What did you just call me?” Screeched Tracey.

“You heard me! Or do I need to spell it out for you, Miss Suxxx?”

That was when Tracey growled and, with her scrawny fists, started beating at his chest. Evidently this was enough to hurt him, as he yelped with each hit she landed on him. In his haste to stop her, he reached for her hair and pulled on it, resulting in her exclaiming and doing the same to him. Ella knew that she should probably stand up and stop them, but she was so shocked by the scene that all she could do was sit there. She and her sister had never fought like this, not even when they were younger. Sure, they had their fair share of arguments, but it had never escalated to a full out “fight”, if what was happening in front of her could even be called that. 

Apparently it could, as somehow the two had drug each other to the edge of the pool by their hair, and before Ella could even react, they had fallen into it. This encouraged her to finally sit up in her lawn chair, but before she could get off of it, Michael was walking outside. He didn’t look particularly interested in what was going on, and he certainly wasn’t in any hurry to help either of his childish children, but at least he made the effort to go out there.

As soon as Tracey surfaced, she started crying; Ella couldn’t tell if she was faking or not, but in the small amount of time she’d known her, she figured the blonde probably was. Jimmy, meanwhile, was flailing his arms as if the pool was too deep for him to stand up in.

“He PUSHED me!” Tracey sobbed as Michael helped her climb out of the pool, careful not to get his expensive-looking suit wet. “Yeah, yeah.” He answered back dismissively. 

That was when Franklin dared to walk outside, and much like Ella, he appeared to wish he would have just stayed inside. Trying desperately not to look at Tracey, whose soaking swimsuit was clinging onto her shivering body for dear life, he called out to Michael. “Dog, I’m gonna get going now, I’ll see you later man!”

Ella, by now, was slipping her sundress over her own bathing suit so she could skedaddle on home as well. She briefly looked around her chair for the six dollars she had brought with her, but couldn’t find it; not wanting to listen to Tracey and Jimmy argue about who pushed who into the pool, she elected to just leave it.

“Alright, see ya Frank. You leaving too, Gabriella?” Michael looked from Franklin to Ella, who simply blinked back at him. What did he just call her?  _ Gabriella _ ? Nobody ever called her that, ever. It was almost an unwritten rule not to call her by her first name, not because she didn’t like it, but because it was just easier to refer to her as “Ella”. She had to admit though, when he called her by her full name, rolling the r… it made her feel things. The same things she felt when she stared into his eyes just a few days ago. So she gulped and then nodded, wanting to hold onto the audio memory of him referring to her by her real name. She decided then and there that he was only one with any kind of permission to call her that.

“Um, yeah… I’ll see you guys later.” She mumbled, forcing her legs to work so she could leave. Instead of walking inside, she just walked around the house; she could feel a set of eyes on her back, so she turned to take a glimpse at who was watching her. It was  _ him _ , torturing her without even knowing. It was almost annoying, just like his little teasing was earlier. She hated how he made her feel; powerless was the first word to come to mind.  _ Goddamnit _ . 

It seemed that her earlier plan had not worked. Despite getting to know Tracey, she could not stop the warm, fuzzy sensation that enveloped her stomach the more she thought about his use of her full first name. Despite picturing Tracey’s undoubtedly disgusted reaction should she find out that Ella was lusting over her father, she couldn’t stop it. Not even when she thought about how irked she felt at his subtle teasing earlier, and honestly the more she thought of that, the more she realized the annoyance she felt was more akin to what she felt when her old boyfriends attempts to tease her in bed. Only this time, he was actually successful at making her want more, and he **probably** wasn’t even trying.

When she finally walked around the house, she once again saw Franklin, who was standing next to his Buffalo S and texting someone. Now that she saw him more clearly, she realized that he was much better looking up close, and much taller. She could understand why Tracey seemed to like him, though; not only was he good looking, he oozed a sense of protection. Like Michael, he had that subtle appearance that said that he could easily hurt someone for looking at him wrong, but the difference was that this guy would probably be more subtle about it. With a quick look at his knuckles, she saw that they were not bruised, unlike Michael’s. 

Suddenly, she got a crazy idea. It was crazy for two reasons; the first being that she still wasn’t convinced that being friends with Tracey De Santa was a good idea. Sure, the girl was friendly enough and appeared to have somewhat good intentions, but she was… practically indescribable. She was a hot mess waiting to happen. She was the epitome of a “daddy’s money” girl, and Ella wasn’t sure if they could truly be friends because of that reason. Those types of girls usually cared for little than themselves, and so-called “friends” were little more than stepping stones. Ella wasn’t sure she wanted to be a stepping stone, but she wasn’t yet sure what exactly Tracey thought she could get out of this friendship. Was she just genuinely being nice? Ella supposed she would see.

The second reason was one that came directly out of Tracey’s own mouth; Michael would probably kill them if he found out that Tracey and Franklin engaged in any sort of relationship. No, she didn’t know any of them well enough to pass judgement on whether or not this would work, but Michael just seemed like the kind of guy to not take kindly to his apparent protege messing around with his daughter. It was the way that Franklin himself had purposely avoided looking at Tracey earlier when he knew Michael was there that mainly gave it away, although the way that Michael carried himself didn’t help. A tough guy with too much money and a seemingly uncaring attitude?  _ Please _ , it was a classic case of “don’t fuck with my little girl”. 

So, the crazy idea? Chat Tracey up to Franklin, ask what his thoughts on her were, maybe pair a couple of people together. Why? She didn’t quite know the answer to that question. There really was no reason why, other than to be nice… and maybe her own little way to project her feelings onto others. If she couldn’t have the person she was currently vying for, why not help her somewhat-friend?

So, without really considering the consequences of this crazy idea of hers, she walked up to the guy with a sickeningly kind smile on her face. “Hey,” She greeted him. “Franklin, right?”

He looked up from his texting, eyebrow cocked as he met her eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but um… it’s getting kinda dark, and I’m new here, so I was wondering if, um, maybe you could walk me home? I just live across the street, but I have to walk around my house and the lawn to get into the gate since there’s not one facing this way.” She explained, wringing her fingers together nervously.

Franklin looked at her face, and then her hands, and then he looked over at her house. His face softened a bit, and Ella could tell that his better nature was taking over him. 

“Sure girl, I got you.” He finally agreed, slipping his phone into his back pocket with a small, polite smile on his face. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, taking the lead as he started walking in the direction her house was in.

They said nothing as they crossed the street; Franklin seemed unsure of what to say while she was trying to figure out how to bring up Tracey. Finally, when they were heading towards the alleyway, passing the concrete fence that surrounded her house, she chose to speak.

“I guess if you really wanted you could just give me a lift and push me over the fence.” She chuckled.

“Hey, if you’re serious…” He joked back, sarcastically holding his hands out to grab her. Having evidently loosened him up somewhat, she decided to get on with the quiz show.

“Soooo, how do you know the De Santas?” She tucked a ringlet of brown hair behind her pink ear.

“It’s kind of a complicated story, girl.”

“I’ll try to keep up.”

He sighed, peeping behind his shoulder as if wondering if the family was around. Evidently it wasn’t something they would have been thrilled about him talking about, or at least  _ Michael _ wouldn’t have been. 

“I used to work for this dude who sold cars, and I mean like… he sold em for way more than they were worth. If they missed a payment, my ass had to go, uh, repossess the cars. Well, Jim was one of the chumps who missed his payment, so I went to get the car and Mike wasn’t so understanding. He ended up losing me my job, so I figured what the fuck and asked  _ him _ for work. Haven’t had much yet, but that old man is something else, I swear.” 

Ella nodded her understanding, wondering what kind of work Michael could possibly have for him. She figured he was into some shady shit, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe she could get some answers from Franklin?

“I’m figuring you know the De Santas just from being neighbors?” Franklin guessed, looking around the nice neighborhood they were walking through.

“Right on the dot, actually. My family and I just moved here about a week or so ago.”

“To Los Santos?”

“Yep.”

“Well shit, where did you come from originally?” 

“Cottonmouth.”

“Man, I heard that place was more of a shithole than this one.”

“Whoever told you that is right.”

They walked a bit more, finally turning the corner to her house when she finally worked up the nerve to bring up what she’d been thinking about originally. 

“So, what do you think about Tracey? She cool?” She tried to bring her up as smoothly as she could, although she wasn’t sure how well it had come out. 

Franklin side-eyed her, and she knew instantly that her prior suspicions had been correct; Michael had undoubtedly told him to stay away from her. “I don’t, uh, really know her, but sure, I guess so.” He mumbled.

“She’s pretty, huh?” Ella pushed.

“Why, you interested?” He pushed back.

“If I swung that way, sure. I was just asking because, er, she seems to think you’re pretty good looking.” 

The air seemed to thicken then, as Franklin nearly went frigid beside her. Evidently this wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

“Listen, I’d be down for that if it weren’t for Michael, but-”

“-Well what Michael doesn’t know, won’t hurt him, right?”

Franklin blinked at her and she smiled back, wondering if she’d made any impact on him whatsoever. She hadn’t said much and yet he was already bothered, and she wondered if the reason he was so bothered was because he too had been interested. 

Neither of them said anything else as they walked up the short street, though Ella wondered if maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut. After all, she didn’t know either of them well enough to meddle in their personal lives, and yet she was sure her new… friend (?) would be ecstatic if Franklin made any kind of move. There was also the fleeting guilt of going behind Michael’s back, but he hadn’t told  _ her  _ anything about Franklin and Tracey being strictly off limits to one another, so really she wasn’t breaking any of his rules. She did get the sense, however, that should he set any rules for her, breaking them would be explosive. Ella couldn’t help but shiver at the thought, though she wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or something else.

Franklin walked with her until they reached her front door, after which she thanked him for his service.

“For sure, girl.” He nodded, and for a moment it looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. He waited for her to open the door and walk inside before he headed out, which she thought was nice. Would it be such a bad thing if he  _ did  _ get with Tracey?

She was just about to grab a snack from the kitchen when Cam strutted out of the living room, his bare, tattooed chest out for the world to see. His tattoos weren’t anything to gawk at, she had once observed; they were crudely drawn, and one sentence read “never surinder” with a red gun next to it. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the sight of him and suddenly she was no longer hungry.

“Bro, where have you been? Did you get my smokes?”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I didn’t go to the store.”

“A’ight, whatever. Where’s my money?”

“I got mugged on my way home and they took all six bucks.”

Cam stared, open-mouthed, as she walked around him and up the stairs, deciding that she wanted to be in the privacy of her own room now. After a long day of dealing with the De Santas, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with her sister’s idiotic boyfriend. That was when she had to remind herself that she’d only been across the street for maybe five hours, and yet that was enough to tire her out. She didn't dislike Tracey, but witnessing her fight with her brother was too much. It didn’t help that Ella was having her own internal struggle with herself over some man she hardly knew.

Her room was the same as it was when she left it, which satisfied her. At least she’d be able to end the day on a high note, knowing that neither Cam nor Lily had ransacked it in an attempt to score some more money. That wasn’t a common occurrence, and when it had happened before they both swore it wasn’t them, but she doubted that as much as she doubted Amanda De Santa was a very pleasant person.  _ Damnit, she really needed to stop thinking bad things about that woman when she hadn’t even done anything _ .

Ella was about to lay down on top of her made bed when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye, something she hadn’t seen before. Curious, she peeked out of her glass balcony door to see what it was. To her surprise, Michael De Santa was standing on his own balcony, smoking a cigarette and staring down at the ground. She hadn’t seen him, or anyone else for that matter, standing on it before.

That was when he looked up, evidently sensing the new pair of eyes on him, and spotted her looking. For the second time. _Jesus Christ_. Awkwardly, she waved, silently reminding herself that she needed to get some curtains to put in front of her balcony door in case Jimmy wanted to spend some time on the balcony as well. With a flick of his cigarette, he briefly waved back, followed by him turning and walking back inside. However, Ella didn’t miss the way he looked back before he walked inside, peering at her once more before shutting the door behind him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my first GTA story, so I'm sorry if the characters seemed odd or something. Admittedly, I'm still trying to find my footing. Anyways, thanks so much for reading!


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